


"The Play"

by MrsKohakuSato



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: An au where honerva and zarkon don't become drug addicted zombies, F/M, OCs - Freeform, and allura and lotor are childhood friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKohakuSato/pseuds/MrsKohakuSato
Summary: No matter what reality, it seems Lotor is always destined to struggle. If it wasn't having to deal with quintessence addicted zombies for parents. It was being the socially awkward kid that no one likes. Oh, the woes of early childhood.





	1. "The Prologue"

 

Honerva tired, she really did try. Her face ached, and her teeth clenched, as she forced herself to keep smiling. 

 

But, it was hard, hard because Lotor was reciting by far the the most stilted acting she had ever witness and heard in  her emtire long life. And hard because had to keep her hand on Zarkon’s shoulder, and hard because all the other adults were giving her and her husband odd looks. 

 

“Honerva, I can’t watch this anymore,”He whispered, as he watched his son struggle, and trip over his own tongue, his face totally vacant, as the other children were either boring holes in his persons, or having a great time at his expense. 

 

Lotor of coursed notice, but he didn’t let on.

 

“You.Are.Not.Leaving.” she hissed, as he struggled to flee from her grasps. 

 

“An-and-I cris-crossed-the-the-m-mighty-mountains. And-crossed-the-oceans-to-save-the-princess-,” They both cringed, as if their ears were trying to retreat back into their very bodies. 

 

Lotor’s tone conveyed no emotion as he spoke, he was monotonous, and kept making odd pauses and drew out the syllables for every word far too long, you wouldn’t think he was fluent in Altean. He was, in both Galra and Altean, but tonight however, one would never know with how adamant the little boy was about butchering it, words, sentences and all. 

 

Zarkon was doing everything in his power to leave.But, with Honerva caging him on his left, and Alfor on his right who looked as he if was reliving some kind of tragic event, he was in a tight spot. He couldn’t sit here and watch his son get publicly humiliated like this. He could hear the snickering in the background, and he turned to glare at Blaytz who was a roll behind. He shut-up immediately. 

 

The snickering of course continued, but not from Blatyz, but, from the other adults in the audience. He could forgive the children, they did not know any better. But, adults on the other should know better and act with better decorum.  

 

He turned his eyes back to the stage, when he heard a clank of metal hit the floor. And found Lotor scrambling to heft the the sword, which he dropped by accident he gathered, and lifted it the air. He opened his mouth to speak his next line, but it slipped, possibly from sweaty palms, and smacked himself right in the center of his face, and he and the sword tumbled to the ground. 

 

He heard coughing, mingled with mirth, and saw Alfor wince. Lotor, popped back up, his face red, picked the sword up once more and and spoke- 

  
  


“Here-me-Princess-I’ve-come-to-save-you-from-the-wicked-sorcerer-,” 

 

Allura popped upon the stage, she was looking quite pale. 

 

“My knight has come to save me, oh, could I ever repay the kindness that you bestowed upon my good knight,” Allura’s though a far, far cry from excellent acting, she spoke her lines with grace and ease, the balm for everybody’s ears that night. 

 

Zarkon could see Alfor tearing up from the corner of his eyes, he rolled his. This wasn’t the first play that their children have participated in, nor the last. And yet, he tears up, as if it were her wedding day every single time. He nudged him lightly, to express his exasperation. Aflor only sniffled. Ugh. 

 

“I can’t help it,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He could hear the latter’s wife “Alfor, please,”

 

“No, so fast wretched knight,” A boy, dressed in black armor, appeared. Balmer. Zarkon did not like Balmer. He was a child born of Altean nobility, and horrifyingly spoiled in his opinion. 

 

Balmer was playing the villain. He spoke with good grace and ease, much like Allura, but with a bit more arrogance. He was certainly tall for his age towering over both Allura and Lotor. 

 

He grabbed Allura away, as the story states, but with a bit too much force for it to be consider acting. Allura, quite subtly kicked his shin. The only indication that he felt that was a slight stumbling over his next line. 

 

Balmer stood in front the Princess “You can never defeat me, and you will never have the princess, for she is mine and as well as her kingdom!” 

 

“Never-fiend-you-will-not-have-your-wicked-ways-

 

And then it was a duel. The pivotal point of the play. And much like his acting, his dueling had seen better days. Well, it give it the benefit of the doubt, it wasn’t supposed to authentic dueling, but try telling that to Balmer, who seemed focused on actually leaving behind some damage. In the end he had managed a elbow the young prince in the face, which wasn’t in the script at all, but the play continued. With both the knight and the princess sealing away the evil the sorcerer. 

 

The play ended with the curtains closing,

 

“And now Ladies and Gentlemen,” Coran hopped out from behind the curtain “A round of applause for our talented actors,”  

 

The children filled out one by one, Lotor with a bloody nose, and hand and hand they bowed as the adults clapped and cheered. 

 

And thus the play had ended. Which left Zarkon with a major bone to pick. 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

* * *

 

“GET HIM,”

Lotor ran as fast as his small strides, and equally small feet could carry him. Adrenaline and fear coursed through him, like his veins were burning, as he dashed out the massive exit, a large archway of the outdoor Colosseum. It was also a terrible time to learn that it was much harder to run upon unleveled ground, as his feet left the smooth metallic plates embedded into the earth to serve as walkways, and onto more untamed surface of Daibazaal’s unforgiving terrain.  

                                                                     

He nearly tripped, over one of the many hefty cracks that garnish the land, but was able to steady himself with slight difficulty.

 

“There he is!” He could hear Yorak yell in the distance.

 

“Don’t let that spoiled brat, get away!,” Sendak barked.

 

He shouldn’t have glanced back over his shoulder. Yorak, a young Galra three years older than him was right on his tail. Along with Sendak, Landok, Cossack and Throk taking the rear. His stomach dropped, he yelped, as he did this time tripped over some sort of root protruding out the dry, cracked ground, and tumbled to the ground, tossing a cloud of dirt and pebbles into the air.

 

His heart was roaring his ear. He pressed in his knees in the dirt, to lift himself up, only to be dragged back down, he can feel the skin scrap beneath his clothing, he felt something latch onto his ankle with a bruising grip. He spun around, and was greeted with by Yorak’s usual manic grin, showing off his sharp teeth. They glinted in the midday sunlight.

 

“I got him!”

 

 He was being pulled back, he clawed at the earth, trying to anchor himself, but it was of now use, as Yorak yanked him back, flipping him on his back. Before he knew what was happening, an elbow was colliding with his face. He forced his mouth closed, he squirmed, desperately, trying to fling himself out of his hold, he peaked up seeing the others coming closer and closer.

 

Without thinking, Lotor quickly dug his hand in the dirt, gathering it within his palms.

 

“Hey!” Yorak’s eyes jerk up, and Lotor flungthe soil right into his eyes. He cried out, his hands flew up to his face, to try and rid the foreign substances from his vital areas.

 

 Lotor threw himself forward, running, faster, as if a Weblum was on his tail. He would have rather  been chased by a weblum, at this point.

 

“I can’t believe you let him go!” Ladnok spat.

 

“He threw dirt in my the eyes! Ugh, it stings”

 

“Ugh!”

 

“Come back here, you coward!”

 

“I said I was sorry!”

 

He heard Sendak snarl. Lotor realized he wasn’t going to make it, as he was hastily approaching a steep cliff. And with all 5 of his classmates banking his side. He was more or less, and for a lack of anything better to say, doomed.

 

“It was accident-he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as he was knocked to the ground once more, as Sendak flew, and rammed bodily into him. Lotor’s smaller frame didn't stand a chance against the older boy’s crushing weight, and crashed into the hard, uncultivated dirt. He curled into a ball to protect himself from Sendak’s massive fists, as they slammed into him. He felt a foot connect with his back, and his bag that he always kept to his persons was ripped away.

 

Landok sneered “Star charts. Is this what you do with you precious time,” She dumped the content of the bag onto the ground. He heard the distinct sound of glass hitting and cracking on the ground.

 

Yorak laughed, a high pitched cackle that would put hyenas to shame, as Cossack took his turn, this time ripping his arms away, and yanking him up by the collar of his flight suit, and slammed him into a nearby tree. It rattled, the sound vibrating through his bones, and leaves danced off the branches and in to the dry winds. His feet dangled off the floor.

 

“Aren't ya going to fight back,”

 

It was difficult to speak with pain lacing his body, it was like air was refusing to enter his lungs.

 

“I'm not looking for a figh-

 

“So, what are you a pacifist, now,-hey Sendak the little twerp’s a pacifist,”

 

“N-”

 

“Did you say something mama's boy,”

 

“I never said I was a pacifist,” he spoke, his voice strained.

 

“Oh, then what are you, because your certainly not Galra, or Altean for the matter,”

 

He could taste iron on his tongue, and his body throbbing numb. But, unfortunately, from here he could clearly see what Yorak was laughing at. He had his holopad-which was cracked, but that hardly matter, as to his mortification he was swiping through his gallery. Filled to the brim of pictures featuring a certain Altean Princess.

 

“Aww, look, Cossack. The twerp’s got a crush on the princess,” His snickering pitched higher with each swipe.

 

“She is way out of your league, half-bred,” Ladnok scoffed, scattering his maps across the dirt. She was obviously losing interest in the chase. “Perhaps, you should lower your standards,”

 

“And that’s if anyone would willingly want to be with a werido like him,” Throk quipped over Yorak’s shoulders.

 

His face burned a dark lavender, that spread up to the tips of his ears, as his lungs howled and thrummed. He swallowed, his throat dry and parched, as he watched Cossack cock his arm,

 

“Say, nighty night, Prince Lotor,”

 

-he could already taste his fist-he squeezed his eyes shut, preparing the for a blow that never came.

 

“ENOUGH!,” the young Galra snapped at attention, turning their heads to meet Kolivan’s towering figure looming over them like a shadow. Cossack immediately, released Lotor, and swallowed thickly. His head lowered. The funny thing about Kolivan is, he didn’t have to raise his voice to instill absolute fear.

 

Sendak, Landok, Yorak, Thork, Cossack, come,” The rest, excluding for Sendak, were quite visibly shaken, as Kolivan bore into them.

 

They stood front and center “ Have you nothing to say for yourselves,” wisely they all kept their mouths shut finding interest in studying the various sediments that adorn the ground. Well, not Sendak, seeing that he was the ringleader of this recent escapade.

 

“He’s weak,” he spat.

 

Kolivan quirked a brow “Is that anyway to speak to your prince,”

 

The boy scoffed, though he kept his voice low “I rue the day when the Galra have to bow to half-bred weakling,”

 

“Enough. All of you will be punished and dealt with personally. Go.” His head motioning back the way they came.

 

They grumbled quietly, as they passed him.  

 

“this is why I told all of you to wait,”

 

They were gone, however Lotor felt no relief as he stared solemnly as his ruined holopad and star charts, now ripped, and decorated in mud. He gathered them nonetheless, as he felt Kolivan approach, picking up his books on the way.

 

“Are you injured,” the boy refuses to look to him.

 

Lotor shrugged, whipping his bloody nose with the back of his hand.

 

“I will escort you,”

 

“I’m fine, Kolivan. I’m not an infant”

 

“I need to inform your parents of this incident,”

 

“I’ll tell them,” he packed everything back into his bag. “Father’s in a meeting, and mother’s still working. You shouldn’t distract them from their work,”

 

The older man sighed through his nose. Begrudgingly “Very well, but I will still escort you to the castle,”

 

Lotor nods, and mutely  follows the other man towards home.

 

* * *

 

 

Honerva yawned, stretching her fingers, as they ached from a long day of logging. The holo screens were at the present  were starting to irritate her eyes. She needed to call in for the day, but she wanted to finish this. Just a few more paragraphs… and everything will be complete and she can continue you on with her current research.

 

Her ear twitches, the front door to the family’s living center slides open, the scent of her son permeates the air, along with dirt.

 

Typing away “Long day,”

 

“Mhhh,” he hums.

 

She laughs “A very long day it seems,” she hears his trusty bag flop against the cushions of the couch. The squeaking of leather.

 

Lotor passes her, aiming for the kitchen. She hears the rustle of glass, pots and pans. And feels Lotor pass her once more a moment later.

 

He’s unusually quiet this evening. Now, Lotor was a quiet child by nature. But, he was usually in the habit of enthusiastically reciting to her his day’s adventure no matter how mundane.  

 

Ah, it was a long bad day, she hypothesized, brushing back a strand of dark grey, behind her ear.

 

One more paragraph. Her fingers whined in protest, as her eyes strained. One more. Just one more. She chanted to herself.

 

She hears the front door slide open again, and she smiles softy, hearing Zarkon groan deeply.

“I take it was a long day for you to, Dear,”

 

“That is an understatement,” he muttered. She didn’t have to look to know that he was rubbing his face in exasperation.

 

“I-Honerva why does Lotor have a black eye,” this time she does turn.

 

“Wha-Lotor!” his lip is also split, his nose running with blood, and his eye painted black and blue. Lotor, however seemed unbothered, as he read his book, and drank his milk, despite the crimson dripping down his face. “Sweetheart, what happened to your face,”  

 

He peers up, his expression rather vacant and shrugs. Honerva shuts off her holo-screens, hastily stepping over, both of her hands caging his face, gently as possible, assessing his injuries.

 

“I got into a fight,”

 

“A fight?” She bites her lip, before removing her hands “I’ll get the first aid kit,” steps out the room, and down the hall.

 

“Did you win,” Zarkon is kneeling down, next to the couch. He props Lotor’s chin with palm of his massive hand, careful of his claws, to regard the boy’s injuries. It was nothing worth fretting over. But, still, the child just sat there with a bloody nose, as if were completely normal.

 

“Does it look like I won,” Lotor took another sip of milk, looking-annoyed. Like he had somehow missed a critical point.

 

“What is that supposed to mean,” Honerva returns, a white box in hand, she takes her previous spot, and pulls from the container, a wet cloth, and pressed it to his nose.

“It stings,”

 

“Good. It means it’s working,”

 

“What exactly happened, Lotor,”

 

“Like I said a fight. Well, It was rather one sided fight, Father. With me. On the ground. While they beat me senseless,”

Honerva makes a noise in the back of throat, as focuses her attention on his spilt lip.

“I suppose a talk with Kolivan is in need,”

 

“He knows,”

 

“He does,”

 

“He was the reason why Cossack didn't knock me teeth out on the floor,”

 

“Cossack? Isn't that child a lazy slacker,”

 

“Cossack, Sendak, Landok, Throk and Yorak. They chased my out of the Colosseum, after training,”

 

“I thought they were your classmates,” Honerva asked, puzzled.

 

“Classmates, Mother, not friends,” his brows knit in bafflement. He thought it was very obvious to his parents that the other children didn’t like him, and that included his own classmates.

 

“What about Merla? She's nice isn't she,” his mother looked hopeful, for what. Lotor didn’t know.

 

“She wasn't there. But, she doesn't like me either,”

 

Lotor didn't like Merla much also. She was quite strange in her own right. Busying herself with things that one would consider the occult. He whipped his runny nose with the back his hand, and sniffed.

 

He turned his eyes up to his parents. They went quiet, their faces both mirroring each other in concern. Lotor didn’t understand. Why were they, so worried? He sighed, peering down back at his book. The brown pages were decorated with drops of blood.

 

* * *

 

Honerva rubbed her eyes. The words on the pages blurred. She huffed, and snapped her book closed and tossed it onto her in table, and switched the lamp propped on her side of the bed off.

 

She threw herself back onto the bed, her arms crossed at her stomach.

 

Oh, Lotor. She tried not worry for him much, for the fear of coddling him. But, no such luck. He was an..odd child to say the least.

 

He didn't act like one. A child. He had strong fondness of language and books, and ancient civilizations, which meant his vocabulary exceeded that of his peers. He acted above his own age, which many times caused himself to be ostracized from his classmates.

 

He sat alone most days. Staring out over the few ponds and lakes that resided on Daibaziaal.

 

He trained alone. Ate alone. His face always in a book. His teachers often expressed their displeasure for his lack of interest in combat.

 

And For, a time Honerva wondered maybe he was much more Altean than Galra. At least mind wise. And opted, which much convincing to Zarkon, to let him study and train on Altea. He would be safe. Aflor would be there, and Lotor already look to him, as if were a second father. And Allura would be there, too. For, a moment it seemed that he was faring well. Unfortunately, no. And Lotor once more endured the discrimination he felt back on home.

 

“Zarkon,” she jerks her face to him. He's lying, on his stomach, his face planted in his pillow.

 

“Hmm,”

 

“Are you awake,”

 

“hhmmm,”

 

“Do you-do you think were bad parents,”

 

“Why would you ask that,” he tilts his head to face her.

 

“I don’t know-I just-I just don’t know what to do with him anymore,” she speaks softly.

 

“It’s like he doesn’t fit in anywhere,” Honerva sighs, her chest heaves.  

 

“Maybe we haven’t tried everything,”

 

“Perhaps were trying too hard,”  

 

“Or perhaps, he’ll just simply grow out of it,” Zarkon pauses “then again he is a rather peculiar child,”

 

“Maybe he needs something else,”

 

“Like,”

 

“I...don’t know,”

 

The vents rumble gently.

 

“Perhaps, we should have a therapist give him a look,”

 

“Therapist?”

 

“Zarkon, please. I know how you feel about it. But, please let it go this time, at least for Lotor’s sake.”

 

“I fail to see why he needs to see one,” he grumbles.

 

“Maybe there are some underlying problems. Problems that we just can’t see,”

 

“Or maybe there isn't a problem,”

 

“Perhaps. But, what if there is, and we just don't know,”

 

Zarkon huffs.

* * *

 

“Is your hair brushed,”

 

“Yes, nanny,”

 

“Are your teeth brushed,”

 

“Yes, nanny,”

 

“Is-

 

“Look. I’m dressed,” Allura twirls showing off the frills of her dress, “and my teeth are brushed see,” she uses her fingers to spread her lips, showing off her pearly whites,” and my tiara is on, “and my room is cleaned,” she swings the door of her bed chambers over. Though, nanny was sure she could see something poking out of the bed, but,  Allura snapped it close just as quickly, as opening it.

 

“Now, can I go,”

 

“Alright, Alright, you can go now,”

 

“Thank you…,” Allura huffs and sprints off down the hall without another word.

 

“No, running down the hall,  young lady,”

 

Allura groans loudly, as she slows to a fast walk, before speeding off, once she was sure she was out of her Nanny’s sight.

 

She blurred by the guards, and the servants, as she entered the public areas of the castle. She screwed around the crowds of people coming in and out, all the while assenting out greetings and farewells.

 

Her heart was pumping, as excitement raced through her veins. She could hardly, contain herself, as nearly reached the docking by.

 

“Allura!”

 

‘Ugh!” Balmer. Shouldn't he be in classes at this time.She should have kept running, as she turned, her face spilt into a strained smile.

 

“Allura. I’ve been looking for you,” Balmer a young Altean boy, a member of the Altean nobility. He stands a good two heads taller than her, and somehow he seems larger once he stands in front of her. Standing a bit to close. Allura takes two-larger steps backwards.

 

“Hello, Balmer,” She tilts her head.

 

“Let’s get some lunch,” he offers her his arm, cocking a grin. His teeth immaculate, shining in the Altean sunlight that seeps through the opened windows.

 

“No, thank you. I’m going to the docking bay,”

 

Balmer frowns, his arm slumps. “Why,”

 

“I’m going to met Prince Lotor. Remember he’s coming to visit today,”

 

Balmer’s frown melts into a hard grimace, his arm drops limply to his side.

 

“Well, it’s not if you have to go,” he mutters.

 

“I’m going because I want to. Lotor is my friend,”

 

“Aren’t I a friend,”

 

“...of course.. .But, I’m still going to meet Lotor. We can have lunch some other time. And I can bring Romelle, too,”

 

“Fine,” Allura felt her excitement falters, but she shook her head. And gave a small good-bye before taking off again.

 

* * *

* * *

 


End file.
